


A Sniper's Attention

by Jack_Wilder



Series: Eagle Eyes & Steady Hands [1]
Category: Justified
Genre: F/M, Rachel ain't no delicate flower, Rachel is over Tim's antics, Tim's got a lock on his target
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 03:39:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19455565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jack_Wilder/pseuds/Jack_Wilder
Summary: Those steel blue eyes have her in their sight.





	A Sniper's Attention

**Author's Note:**

> I straight up binged watched all six seasons of Justified last week after watching the first 8 episodes when it premiered years ago. It was freaking awesome and like so many persons, I fell in love with Tim Gutterson.
> 
> I also loved the chemistry he had with Rachel and Raylan (especially Rachel). I read all the fanfics for Rachel/Tim and decided to contribute my own piece. :)
> 
> I hope that you all enjoy it. 
> 
> If you see any errors, POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the readers. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

Rachel was accustomed to Tim's often sardonic and self-deprecating humour and reaction to situations. Whether they were under fire by a duo of rednecks, he kept his cool while rolling out of their shot-up SUV, assembled his rifle and asked with even more calm than Buddha himself, "should I kill 'em or wing 'em"? Before winging them both with precision. 

She was familiar with his laconic way of dealing with the feds and real dumbass criminals like Dewey Crowe. She was even used to him answering her as "yes, ma'am" when she gave him orders, seeing that she had seniority over him as both a Deputy U.S. Marshal and being in the Lexington office.

However, what she was accustom to in any way, shape or form, was that particular day when she gave him orders to deal with their backgammon guy, he replied with a sarcastic comment as per usual and she told him to get it done. Tim replied with his Texan boy drawl of "yes, ma'am" as she was leaving, only for her to glance out of the corner of her eye and see the way he was leering at her.

Surprised by the look, Rachel turned her head to look at him properly, and the look did not disappear, as a sly smile spread across Tim's face. Unsettled by their small encounter, unnoticed by anyone else in the room or office, Rachel booked it back to her desk, hyper aware of the sniper's sharp blue eyes following her. 

Rachel had been at the Lexington Marshal's office for a year before Tim arrived, and while others were quick to avoid the young sniper with his deadpan and often time black humour, Rachel welcomed him. He did not speak much about himself, those first few months, still didn't actually, but Tim became someone who Rachel could trust with her life and to have her back, just as she could trust him to get morning coffee when it was his turn to do so. 

They both knew where each other lived, and have spent the night at each other's place for some reason or another, have had lunch, dinner and after work drinks together, all the things friends did, _but_ what friends _did not do_ was look at their acting superior as though they wanted to eat them alive in the biblical sense.

They got through that case with the usual dose of drama, with Rachel forgetting about the way Tim had looked at her, until shit again hit the fan.

"Tim, get your rifle out of the trunk and tell Nelson we're moving." Rachel ordered, about to go after their hundredth million fugitive.

_"Yes, ma'am."_

And there it was again. That damn _'yes, ma'am’ in_ that fucking Texan drawl. Rachel wanted nothing more than to punch her temporary subordinate in his stomach. In the end, shit got done. They were all a little worse for wear, but no one was dead or in the hospital. 

They had about a day or two of peace, until it was chaos again, with their new villain for the week. Some other sonovabitch deciding to wreak havoc in Harlan County; which led to an all hands-on deck manhunt for Ty Walker. 

Standing over a map, with Rachel sandwiched between Raylan and Tim, with Nelson standing beside the bonnet of some local cop's car they were using as a makeshift desk, Rachel outlined what she wanted. 

"I don't want this guy going all Eric Frein on us, hole up at some derelict airport for weeks, while we're out here chasing our own dicks."

Tim looked at her with raised eyebrows, "sounds really strange when you say it."

Without a beat, Rachel had snapped back, "I'm running shit. I get to use the expressions."

"Roger that." He said, before they all walked away to complete the orders they were given. Tim stood some distance away, watching as Raylan and Rachel had a conversation, with the latter looking completely done with Raylan's bullshit. Once he left, and Rachel stood alone, he moved in for the kill. 

Rachel turned as she heard him approach, having to tilt her head back to meet Tim's eyes from how close he was standing to her. Even though he only stood at 5'8", he still towered over her petite frame of 5'2". Something that she had not really noticed until _he_ made it noticeable. 

Tim tilted his head studying her and Rachel was never happier that she had a perfect poker face from years of playing cards with her grandmother and mother. The look she was on the receiving end of was that of a sniper watching his _target_. 

"Something the matter Deputy Gutterson?" Her eyebrow arched as she waited hear whatever he had to say.

"Nah," he drawled, a wicked gleam in his eyes, that matched the slight uptick at the corner of his mouth. "Just wanted to let you know, that what you have between your legs is not a dick and I wouldn't mind chasing it."

Rachel blinked, then blinked again as her colleague's, her sometimes partner's, her friend's, her _current temporary subordinate_ words registered in her brain. "Gutterson," she paused, her poor brain still trying to process what the fuck she had just heard. "Deputy Gutterson,"

"Hmm." He looked like the fucking cat who got the canary, but Rachel was no canary and she would remind him of that. 

"Kindly know that once this is all over, your ass is going to attend _every single_ Sexual Harassment in the Workplace Seminar there is from now until you retire." 

_"Yes, ma'am."_ He knew what he was doing addressing her like that; and he knew that Rachel, his boss, knew exactly what he was doing.

Rachel turned to walk off, before spinning back to face him. "And one more thing," she smiled sweetly before delivering a powerful punch to his stomach. Tim doubled over, coughing as her small fist drove the air out of his lungs. A satisfied smile on her face, Rachel left him there on the wet dirt road to regain his bearings, ignoring the raised eyebrows and shocked looks they were receiving for the spontaneous act of violence.

  



End file.
